Making the Dead Smile
by Honey and Tea
Summary: Zero is a struggling artist accepting jobs wherever he can to make ends meet. Takuma, a publicist, hooks a certain Kaname Kuran up with him to boost his image. Pairings: Kain/Zero, eventual Kaname/Zero.
1. Chapter 1: Sharpening

**A/N: **Hello my lovelies. It's been a tough year so far... been held up with various school-related work. I've sort of lost touch with my other stories at the moment... but I'll be sure to pick them up once school is finished and I have time to re-read them. So sorry for any inconvenience. But for now, here's chapter one of a new fic I'm not quite sure where I'm headed with. Hope you enjoy.

**Rating: **M. There will probably be sex scenes with Kain and Zero foremost, and later on with Kaname and Zero, but for now it'll focus on the development of the characters' relationship.

**Pairing: **Kain/Zero, Kaname/Zero.

**Warnings: **Language.**  
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><p><strong>Making the Dead Smile<strong>

Chapter 1: Sharpening

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><p><strong>I<strong>t was close to uncomfortably warm in Zero Kiriyuu's studio apartment. Typical mid-summer afternoon temperatures were currently soaring in the thirties which made the fumes of the arrays of paints and mediums unbearable to those unfamiliar with the substances. Zero however was unperturbed and was more concerned about the sweltering heat seizing his incomplete artworks. He'd had to lay them flat on the floor of his apartment, suddenly plagued with a wave of paranoia that the paint would run more than what was necessary, which would ultimately ruin the artist's carefully planned (if not anal-retentive-worthy) foray.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Zero cast a vindictive glance towards the broken and currently smoking air conditioner across the room. It hadn't had to smoke… the damn thing had only produced what could only be called as 'the impact of an elderly relative breathing on the back of one's neck'. So Zero had persuaded it… so to speak. Unfortunately, negotiations hadn't ended so well. Zero tried to refocus as he began bleeding his colours together on a stray shred of canvas. There was a certain aesthetic he wished to achieve with that particular technique, but so far it had only accomplished a sort of minor effectiveness that Zero wouldn't have even expected from a preschooler without any hands. Maybe the colours were the problem, Zero thought with little substance to the accusation. Well, it was worth a try… Determined to not be outdone by a simple effect, Zero put the handle of his previous brush between his teeth and grabbed another to swirl around in the stark red paint on his pallet. Against the black with which he was using, the colours drew from one another perfectly, as if the two colours were made to be seen together as one. Zero stood up straight from his hunched position over the bench and admired the contrast and effect, finally satisfied – if a little.

"And this is the penciller Zero Kiriyuu."

Zero apprehended the two entering figures in his apartment with a glare, his teeth still clutching his paintbrush. He regarded them with a slight hostility only he was known widely for. The first who entered was a publicist of sorts who Zero had met with on many occasions, and for reasons beyond logical grasp, the man kept referring his clientele to the young artist. His name was Takuma. He ordered the photographs, illustrations, paintings and any sketches Zero made. He was also the man who gave him his paycheck, which was more than decent, and for Zero who was still struggling for two very far apart ends to meet, he knew he couldn't miss such good opportunities. Even if most of the hacks the publicist sent him were arrogant jerks whose proctologists were probably baffled at how often and far up their asses their own heads were. But at least now Zero had gained and perfected a profitable skill from his troubles: the ability to judge a person from a brief encounter. The tall man with Takuma was unsurprisingly attractive – all toned muscles, brown tresses and captivating auburn eyes. His eyes were perhaps the only thing separating him from all the others… it made the young artist uneasy at being unable to read such apathetic depths.

"And it seems that he is indeed in need of some fast cash," Takuma remarked, referring to the brush Zero had unconsciously left in his mouth.

Removing the brush from his lips, Zero frowned. "Charming as always, Takuma. Still single are you?"

Takuma feigned hurt on his boyish features. "Zero my love, you know my work comes first, even before you."

"Spare me your dramatics. What's the job?" Zero asked, mildly disinterested in their familiar banter. He flicked his eyes back to the stranger who hadn't stopped _staring_ at him since he arrived, who winked at Zero when their eyes met for one agonizing moment.

"You hurt me, Zero," Takuma smirked. He motioned to the tall man, his ability to bounce back quickly clearly demonstrated. "This is Kaname, he'll require some… artistic creativity to his profile, as well as a portrait of him looking fancy. Starting as soon as possible."

Zero caught the smirk flash over Kaname's face as he reached into the pocket of his black pants to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. "Come on Friday morning, but before then," the artist approached the brunette and snatched the pack from his hands, "you better hit the cold turkey. You're not smoking anywhere near me while we're doing this." Hesitating and meeting Kaname's dead eyes as a warning, Zero gave him back the smokes and returned to his desk to pencil in the arrangement. 'Bring stress ball', he wrote as a reminder.

"Friday evening."

Zero was startled at how demandingly deep and silky Kaname's voice was. "What?" he turned to Takuma for explanation. Friday evening… wasn't that when the brainless and arrogant went out and got doped up on drugs, sex and rock'n roll? Besides, Zero had scheduled in to leave at that time for a well-needed holiday.

Takuma shrugged and smiled with that half-assed grin of his. "That's all we can do."

"Then make it for some time next week, I have plans," Zero stated firmly. He'd been so busy these last couple of months that he hadn't had any time to spend with his boyfriend. Patient though he was, Zero didn't think Kain was capable of waiting for the artist to be free anymore. It was supposed to be their weekend of reconnecting with each other, as Kain put it.

"Cancel them," Takuma said melodically as he herded his newest charge out the door. "See you Friday!"

"Wait! Takuma, what the hell?" The door slammed shut, leaving Zero with an abundance of justifications to rip the publicist to pieces. Why was it so damned important that it had to be done right now? The process itself would take months, maybe even a year or more… why was Takuma so damn keen…? Oh for fuck's sake, Zero groaned, rubbing his temple. He could just make out the premonition of an insipid migraine on the horizon.

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><p>"<strong>Y<strong>ou're sure that some amateur will do the job right?" Kaname asked as he was ushered into the black limousine, sunglasses placed snugly on his nose as he pulled the collar of his black coat up to shield his neck from the last dying rays of sunlight.

"Positive, Kaname-sama. He's one of the best artists I've ever come across, bar Henri Cartier-Bresson, Picasso and Robert Capa of course," Takuma exclaimed, taking the seat opposite. "Take anything alive and he'll give it essence and meaning. Trust me."

Removing his glasses in one fluid movement, the publicist found he was being regarded with his leader's luminescent scarlet eyes. "How would he then, as an artist who breathes soul into the living, ever be capable of giving sense to the lifeless brought back into animation?"

Takuma smiled. "You forget Kaname-sama, that you were never dead."


	2. Chapter 2: Pressing Pencil to Paper

**A/N: **Hey guys! Quick update because I'm procrastinating doing any work! Yay! Enjoy.

**Pairing: **Kain/Zero, eventual Kaname/Zero.

**Rating: **M.

**Warnings: **Sex, rotting food, angry Zero.

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><p><strong><span>Making the Dead Smile<span>**

Chapter 2: Pressing pencil to paper

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><p>After slipping into a cold bath for about ten seconds, Zero groaned in frustration at the sound of knocking at his front door. At least they had the damn decency to knock, he supposed, unlike Takuma… Throwing an arm over his forehead he sighed, waiting for the visitor to leave.<p>

"Zero? It's Kain."

Zero nearly tumbled out of the water and skidded into the door when he rushed to get out of the tub. Zero hadn't expected his boyfriend for another hour at least. He wrapped a towel around his waist – that'd have to do – and stumbled out of the bathroom to answer the door.

"I bear peace offerings," Kain said, lifting both his hands up to show him one rather large bag and another smaller one with the insignia of Zero's favourite take-away shop.

"Kain, what are you doing here so early?" Zero asked, heading back to pull on a robe, or at least some clothes.

Kain shut the door and put the take-away on the bench. Dragging the other bag to the side, he knelt down and stripped the bag off when Zero returned from his bedroom wearing jeans.

"And voila. An air conditioner," Kain stated with a goofy grin as he looked up at Zero's shocked expression.

Zero frowned. "That's _your _air conditioner – the one that's in your bedroom, isn't it?"

Kain nodded and stood, pressing a gentle peck hello to Zero's lips. "It's you that can't stand the heat. Remember that one summer when I found you passed out naked on your apartment floor?"

Zero threw a weak glare to his boyfriend. He'd been tied up with all those deadlines and it'd been impossible to get a drink for himself; he'd been dehydrated, and that was why he fainted. "As I recall, I wasn't _naked_."

Kain shrugged and smirked. "I'll tell it my way, you can tell it yours."

Zero slapped his partner over the head lightly. "Thank you…"

"No problem," Kain smiled, rubbing the back of his head. "Where do you want me to set this up?"

"Kain, I'll do it, don't worry about it."

"Nonsense," he waved Zero away. "Call it a two pronged attack – you dish up the food."

Smiling, Zero shook his head.

When Kain had finished setting the air conditioner up in the bedroom, they both sat down and ate been with black beef sauce and rice.

"Thanks for getting dinner," Zero said, lips upturned slightly as he held a forkful of rice to his face.

Kain smiled back. "It's fine. Besides, think of it more of an avoidance technique; I swear, everything in your refrigerator is either growing legs or building little colonies. It's difficult to decide which horrific stomach ache I'd prefer more."

Zero smirked despite himself. "Is that why whenever I see you drinking a beer from my fridge you pretend to be talking to tiny little people?"

Kain grinned. "Who said I was pretending?"

"You're an idiot."

Kain laughed.

Zero frowned when he realized he had to ruin their good spirits with his new job news. He'd gotten a call earlier from Takuma confirming Kaname's appointment for Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday night. As it so conveniently turned out, Kaname was only free for those times, so Kain and Zero's trip would have to be cancelled. Zero bristled internally. He wished the money was worth it; maybe then he'd be able to take some time off during the week so he could spend it with Kain – a weekend in reverse, he called it.

Zero yawned suddenly when they'd finished dinner, coming over very tired.

Kain smiled in that gently way of his and cupped Zero's cheek in his hand across the table. "You've had a long day," he murmured softly, sliding his hand up a little to rub his thumb over the lines beneath Zero's eye.

"Let's go to bed," Zero mumbled, reveling in Kain's soft touches.

They left all the dishes where they were and trekked hand-in-hand to the bedroom. When the door closed behind them, Zero pressed Kain against the doorframe smoothly and craned his neck up to steal a kiss from his delightfully surprised boyfriend's mouth. Their kiss was tender, soft and slow and there was just enough pressure, suction and saliva Zero thought as he felt Kain's wet tongue tease his lips open. Meeting finally, their tongues lazily writhed together, and Zero let go of a moan. Kain pulled away gently and clasped his boyfriend's shoulders within both hands in order for him to steel himself. His steady amber eyes met Zero's confused lilac ones, conveying his reason for pulling away. "You're tired," he urged simply, turning Zero around and giving him a push towards the bed.

It's been a week, Zero complained inwardly, but followed his eyes to the bed anyway. Sliding in between the soft mattress and thin sheet, he watched as Kain undressed. He smirked frailly, recalling that Kain preferred sleeping in the nude. This could work to his advantage…

When Kain climbed into bed, Zero rolled him onto his bed and straddled him with the full intention of grinding their slowly awakening arousals together. Kain groaned gutturally, the friction sending a delicious sensation through his groin. He held firmly to Zero's hips and tried to guide him to stop, but the silver haired minx continued his rubbing, which was quickly becoming quite frantic on his part. Kain bit his lip, his cock coming to full hardness when Zero rubbed his own against that certain spot that always got Kain panting.

"Zero…" he protested somewhat pathetically.

Above him, Zero panted softly as he rocked back and forth. Damn those jeans… Swiftly, he unzipped and pulled them off, temporarily leaving his boyfriend stunned and unable to move from where he was. Naked now, Zero allowed for the intense sensation of skin against skin to make Kain thrill pleasurably as he got back on top of him.

"Z-Zero, why are you so eager tonight?" Kain asked, gasping. Not that he was complaining, but, "Aren't you exhausted?"

"A little," Zero admitted. He grabbed Kain's dick and started pumping it. "But… it's been an entire week," he said, enjoying Kain's fluttering eyes and small groans, "and, think of this as my peace offering."

"What for?" Kain reciprocated the action, using one hand to stroke Zero's cock while the other snaked behind his lover to push his middle finger against his hole.

"I need you all glazed over and doped up on sex before I tell you," Zero replied irreverently, gasping when Kain's long finger slipped inside his tightness. "S-Shit… Kain… too dry."

Apologizing softly, Kain drew out his finger and sucked it into his mouth, coating it with his saliva before dipping back into Kain's channel again. This time when the digit sank in, Zero moaned.

Leaning up, Kain decided it was his turn to take control, and eagerly set out to encase one of Zero's peaked pink nipples in his velvety hot mouth. Zero cried out and pumped Kain harder. His lover smiled at his reaction and swiftly added another finger, fingering him thoroughly.

Zero was outdone by so much of the stimuli and collapsed onto Kain's chest, his lungs heaving for air. "P-Please… make love to me Kain."

Switching their positions, it wasn't long before the red-head had Zero under him, knees pressed up against his chest, Kain's throbbing cock inside of him. After a small period of adjustment, Kain started moving, his slow thrusts wringing whimpers from his partner who grabbed the headboard with his hands and arched up into Kain so that his nipples brushed against him. Kain smiled through his exertions, knowing how Zero loved it. Moving faster now, but still being quite tender with his movements, Kain pressed deeply into his lover, letting his body press against Zero's as he began undulating within him.

Zero keened loudly, loving the feeling of Kain filling him up while he rubbed his body against his erection and sensitive nipples. He couldn't hold on any longer. Moaning his lover's name sweetly, Zero came on his own belly, shivering with aftershocks while Kain continued to plough him softly. He followed not so far behind though, and spurted his cum inside his lover, calling out Zero's name.

Now fully sated and exhausted, Kain rolled off his boyfriend curled up to him. It felt right, being so close to each other after having had such mind blowing sex. Zero hadn't wanted to spoil it… but…

"I can't go," he panted out into the darkness, "this weekend. Takuma came in with a new client who's only free on the weekend. I'm so sorry, Kain."

Breaking the silence between them, Kain rolled up into a sitting position and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't believe this."

Zero sat up. "Kain… I'm sorry. But this job, I've seen the numbers they're willing to give me – I could get more time off than I ever have before and we could have a real holiday."

Kain sighed into his hand. "Zero, the whole point was so we could go away as soon as possible… it didn't matter if it was for a couple of days or a week. I just wanted to spend a couple of days with you… Christ Zero, we've planned this for months!"

Zero bit his lip and turned away. He didn't know what to say.

"But… if this is what you need to do… go do it."

"It is…," _that way I can make it up to you for all those times I've let you down,_ Zero exclaimed softly, watching his lover with gentle, pleading eyes.

"Right, okay then," Kain said after a while, rubbing his tired eyes.

Those words hurt Zero, even as his boyfriend lay back down next to him. Kain had never been so passive to anybody else… and Zero knew he was hurting him as he continued to make him wait, make him hope… He'd ruined it all over again. Zero groaned inaudibly and covered his eyes with his hand. That damn Kaname Cross better be in for a Spartan session with him tomorrow. Zero was just about ready to throw someone out the window.

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><p>Kain wasn't there when he woke up the next morning. Instead, there was a yellow sticky note attached to the pillow, which apologized for his early getaway. Zero would have been suspicious, had he not had his boyfriend's work schedule engraved in his head. Zero gradually eased into his day, beginning with a shower before he dressed and ate… a cooked breakfast already laid out on the table. Another yellow sticky note was attached to his favourite coffee mug, the one that Kain had bought him last year with his favourite poem written on it. Zero tore it off and sat down to read it.<p>

_I didn't leave angry. See – I made you breakfast, so don't feel guilty anymore. – Kain (A.K.A the best lay you've ever had)._

Zero smirked. That idiot. He always knew how Zero felt, it was like he was an open book to him. It was frustrating sometimes. Sometimes. Zero smiled.

"Zero? You in? You locked the damn door…"

Zero twitched. For a good reason, too. "Go away Takuma, I'm busy."

"But… we're here – Kaname and I. And you never lock the door!"

Zero felt his lips tug up a little in amusement. Kain must have locked it on his way out.

"We're here to get started. Come on Zero!"

Rolling his eyes, Zero went to the front door and opened it. "Why the hell are you here so damn early? You said Friday evening."

Instead of being greeted with Takuma's annoying grin as he expected, stood Kaname Cross, brows raised above his sunglasses in amusement.

"Why are you so happy, huh?" Zero demanded, looking the guy up and down. "For Christ sake you're in a friggin' long black coat and it's like a freakin' sauna out there."

A gasp, then Takuma materialized beside the tall model. "I'm so sorry Kaname. Zero can be a little testy in the mornings…"

"Shut the fuck up," Zero glared at Takuma. "The _hell_ are you here now?"

"I received some extra time off, so I thought we could get a head start," Kaname replied, still amused at the prospect of an enraged silver-haired artist.

"Well, you can take your extra time off and shove it u –"

Takuma smacked his hand over Zero's mouth. "Now Zero, I'm sorry I didn't call first, but it was easier just to swing by."

Zero mumbled something noncommittal and insulting through Takuma's palm before he let go.

"I'm having breakfast. Come back in the _evening_," Zero said sharply before slamming the door in their faces.

And that was that.

Takuma groaned.

Kaname grinned.


	3. Chapter 3: The Preliminary Sketch

**A/N: **Hi everyone, I'm back! But not like a poltergeist, haha... terrible joke, absolutely terrible. But anyway, here's the third chapter for you! Sorry if there are any mistakes and such... I wrote this in about four hours, so it's now two a.m haha... ugh. I'm really quite happy with how this turned out (even though this student should be studying) and it's rather a long one, but let's hope that's a good thing.

This time I've added in additional aspects to the story, such as snippets of Zero's childhood and his 'prelude' to art, which I've really enjoyed writing. So just a heads up if any of you are a little confused as to why Zero is suddenly a child hehe.

Extra thanks to all my subscribers, and especially my reviewers: **LunaRina, ben4kevin, blensh-lq, bloody child, Scioneeris, SoulReaper Rukia, Sonzai Tez, Art-sinisterika, Uber Seme Chan and kanamexzero fan. I adore you lovelies! And thank you so much for the flattering reviews, however my head now has a little bit of trouble getting through doors, it being so large and stuff... hahahaha.  
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I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Kain/Zero, eventual Kaname/Zero.

Warnings: language.

Chapter summary:

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><p><strong><span>Making the Dead Smile<span>**

Chapter 3: The Preliminary Sketch

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><p>When Zero was younger, he remembered keeping a journal – not the type that girls kept that expressed their day-to-day complaints – but one which he jotted down all his <em>Unseen Things<em>, as he called them. It was a small, brown, leather-bound book that he could easily tuck into the pocket of his jeans, and had a tiny wrapping of leather which he could neatly press his pen into so he would be able to write things down when he was outside. He recorded many things in the journal, normally of which they were things he'd seen, rather than the emotions he felt when perusing these images. These scenes weren't ones particularly memorable, or even _noticeable_ to the other people around him, but perhaps that had been why Zero had felt the urge to write them down.

One was of a woman at work. Zero's mother had had to drop into the office to deliver something, so while Zero waited patiently for her to return, he sat in the cubicle that she shared with another woman named Ayano (he hadn't been given her last name, as it was a superfluous fact for a child). The cubicle was situated next to one of the building's large windows, and while Zero's mother had disappeared, a man whom Zero didn't know came tumbling down from the exterior, catching the attention of everyone on the level, including Ayano. She had turned on her chair towards the window, her eyes wide, and had made to stand and reach out to him, pen still clutched – if somewhat looser – in her hand. Zero supposed the devastation was in the falling man himself, but it hadn't been until much later that he realized that the man had been committing suicide. Instead he focused on the untoward act of Ayano, who had reached out with her hands to catch him, yet was still so concerned with her own work that she remained grasping her pen. _The shallowness of learned helplessness._ Zero hadn't had the book then, and quickly resolved to purchase one so he could scribble it down and not forget it. It had been his very first entry, and the artist had never forgotten it since.

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><p>When the sun had touched the horizon, Zero heard the expected knock on his door. It was softer, less insistent than last time. "Coming!" he called across to the door from his desk. He'd been compiling his sketching pencils, sticks of charcoal and finally, Progresso pencils – his favourites. He quickly took out a new sketchpad from his drawer and laid it out next to his small digital camera, yet another medium he'd need. Brushing a few stray strands of silver hair from his eyes, he surveyed what some people called "a mess" and mentally checked off the items he required. Pencils, charcoal, paper… <em>ink<em>. He still needed to get some ink, but before that…

"Kiriyuu-san?"

"I'm _coming_!" he yelled rather excessively back to the inanimate door. Where had he put it? Zero tilted his head back and sighed, thinking. Better let the princess in first, though, he thought, rolling his eyes to the offending door. He trudged to it and swung it open, not bothering to look – he knew who it would be by the timbre of the voice – and stomped over to a set of drawers, while carefully maneuvering his feet around the numerous drying paintings on his apartment floor.

"Have you lost something, Kiriyuu-san?" He heard the deep voice ask after shutting the door.

Zero grunted in affirmative as he slid open the top drawer. Nothing. He opened the second and sifted around the pots in there. Nope. The third. Nope-sandwich.

"Perhaps I can help you…" the voice was suddenly very, _very_ close, to the point where Zero felt Kaname's warm breath on his thrilling neck.

Zero steeled his reaction. All this guy wanted was to get a rise, they both knew it. The artist knew he couldn't control that, but he could control his response. "No thanks," he replied frankly, bending over to reach the fourth drawer.

A hum of appreciation.

Zero's eyes widened and he grit his teeth. Never before had he so very wantonly desired to punch someone, and then cover his ass with something – something_ bulky_. He waved his hand around inside the drawer and finally found that damned pot of ink. Springing up straight again, he turned and shoved the _wet_ pot of ink into the amused hands of Kaname Cross. With a triumphant smirk of satisfaction, Zero side-stepped back to his desk, listening to the quieted cursing of a – now – fairly indignant Kaname Cross.

"You got black ink stains on my shirt," he exclaimed softly. Not at all how Zero thought he would have said it.

"Oh, was that pot covered in ink?" Zero turned and feigned a look of astonishment. "I do apologize," he added with little sympathy. "Now put that on my desk and stand over here," he ordered. "I want to make this as painless as possible…"

"I wonder," Kaname began in a pensive tone. He set the pot on the desk and stood where Zero had designated obediently.

Zero's nose wrinkled in agitation. "What?" he inquired when the man refused to look him in the eye.

Kaname then met his fiery gaze with his intense auburn depths. "I wonder what it is _exactly_ that I've done to warrant such insipid conduct from you," he bit out evenly.

"Because you're an ass." The speed at which the artist replied was surprising, even to himself.

Kaname appeared genuinely perplexed. "_Excuse _me?"

Zero suddenly thought that warding Takuma away from that evening's session wasn't such a good idea after all. He now realized why: that he was needed as mediator – a go between, a gopher… an owl from Hogwarts. Zero lacked the "consideration" to reign himself in when Takuma wasn't present, and Kaname Cross suddenly became inefficiently _vocal_ in his absence. And despite his acute awareness of these facts, Zero felt his lips twitching in that familiar way when something wittily _dim_ was on the edge of his tongue.

"Well let's see here… first of all, you smoke."

Kaname's left brow furrowed. "Now really, is that truly someth – "

"Yes," Zero's tongue didn't miss a beat. "It's disgusting, unhealthy, and if you really think it makes you look 'cool', you must be severely disillusioned." He took in a short breath before continuing. "Second, you _drag_ me out of my time off just because _you're_ not free. That in my book makes you more inconsiderate than a scoop of ice cream falling out of a cone in summer."

Kaname breathed out a chuckle, regardless of the unrealistic tumult the artist was giving him. He silenced it swiftly.

Zero's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. "Don't laugh when I compare you to an ice cream," he warned in a low tone, in spite of his – let's admit it – ridiculous simile. "Third of all, you come in here with that smug smirk of yours and think it's appropriate to check out my _ass_!" He resumed his open glaring. "Now tell me where _exactly_ I'm losing you. Was it the part about the smokes, the selfishness or the blatant smarminess? Please, _enlighten_ me." Zero took a few deep, measured breaths after his assaults. He'd really pelted the guy… probably more than what was needed, but definitely the correct amount if he wanted to be dropped from the project, and consequently, the _money_. F#king hell… His eyes softened upon the revelation as he stared at the brunette who, if he was angry, concealed it well. All that gave away any sense of the word was the slight slant of his brow, but it was less than a wrinkle.

"Very well then," he said finally after some time had passed. "I'm sincerely sorry for the first two arguments, Kiriyuu-san."

Zero opened his mouth. Wait. What? "The… first two?" His voice betrayed him, wavering and shriveling up like an awkward teenager's.

Kaname nodded. "I _will not_ apologize for hitting on you."

Zero could feel his jaw falling wide open. He was failing to wrap his head around this one. Zero Kiriyuu understood a number of things; he understood the association between paint and pigmentation, and of how swishing a couple of different chemicals together at twenty degrees changed the result of a print… but what the hell was this?

Kaname pinned him with a long, unbroken gaze. "What? Do you find it so completely unfathomable that I would do such a thing?"

He sounded almost… defensive. Zero mentally slapped himself back into reality. "Um… well anyway…" _change the subject change the subject just change the subject, for god's sake,_ "I have a boyfriend," he admonished gently.

"Right," Kaname nodded to himself, as if making himself accept the fact.

"Besides," Zero shrugged, looking down at his desk to flip his sketchbook open, "it would never have worked out. After all, you're only free on Friday and Saturday nights; I'd need more of a commitment than that."

Kaname brightened bit. "You forgot Sunday," he said, a faint variation of a smile ghosting across his lips. "But I'm pleased that at least you do not find me too _unutterably_ unappealing."

"No, you're not Takuma."

Kaname smiled, despite the flatness of Zero's reply.

Zero felt uncomfortable as the man kept staring at him as he fiddled uselessly with the blank pages of his book. "Can you stop that?" he asked finally, his eyes darting up briefly to confirm his suspicions that Kaname was indeed, still looking.

"Only if you agree to continue working with me, _even_ though I smoke, take up your spare time and make crass passes at you." He was smirking at him again. Zero could feel it.

The money. Think about the money. Money, money, money. Heaps of it. Swimming in it. Kain wearing a money Speedo. Mmmm…

"You _have_ to stop those," Zero said firmly.

Kaname nodded formidably. "Of course."

Zero let out the breath he'd been holding in since Kaname first strolled into the apartment.

"So I guess we'll have to forgo the nude shot today?"

Zero's head snapped up.

Kaname looked innocent. Otherwise known as positively evil. "What? Didn't Takuma tell you?"

"Clearly not," Zero mumbled. He wasn't serious, was he?

"I'm the lead guitarist in an upcoming band. He said he needed me half naked and on an advertisement somewhere. Which means," he grinned, "you'll be the lucky artist drawing me in what they call 'the buff'."

Oh, for f#k's sake.

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><p>Zero was twelve when he first saw George Grie's <em>Arrested Expansion or Cardiac Arrest<em>. For most of his childhood, he'd been familiar with all the greats of history – Henri Cartier-Bresson, Pablo Picasso, Robert Capa, Salvador Dali… the list went on and on. The artists together were a wondrous blend of realism, surrealism and abstract amazement. But Grie's digital manipulation was something else entirely… it was neo-surreal, yet so humbly realistic that the image itself could have easily been a true depiction of real life.

Zero had hardly dwelled on abstractness in his own developing artworks, nor surrealism for that matter. Many of the concepts confused him, and often made him question his own trace of thought, which made him uncomfortable. But this artwork had inspired him to trust his own inhibitions and thoughts, as well as calm his building insecurities about his motives and _why_. It was through that image, Zero learnt to use his instincts, as they were the best launching pads.

From that start, Zero created his first surreal artwork. Using his father as a model, he sketched together a man as his main subject. He penciled the man as hunched over his bent knees in a crouching position, floating some inches above the floor. One of his arms was drawn reaching down between his legs, his finger splaying out so just the fingertips brushed the ground, while the other rested on his knee. His face was set in an intense expression of focus and concentration, staring down whilst his hair undulated like tentacles framing his face. To date, the artist could say that that had been the only artwork he was ever truly proud of.

* * *

><p>"Stop… smirking…," Zero grit out around the pencil clenched between his teeth. He was currently shaping out the contours of Kaname's lips… and the idiotic <em>twit<em> kept smirking. "Do you want to look smug, or do you want to look like a girl's wet dream? Jesus." Zero drew in a few more preliminary lines to shape his mouth out more, but he only ended up rubbing them out again. He groaned and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. He should have been doing what he wanted to do when he was seventeen: creating his own artworks and living off the money he got from selling them, doing interviews with _Contemporary Art_ and lecturing part-time at an art school. Not completely selling out like how he'd been doing for the past couple of years now. But unfortunately, what his seventeen year old self didn't know, was that life was a real bitch sometimes, and no amount of his style of art could ever fix it. He'd found that out the first time he'd tried selling some of his pieces. God, what a disaster that had been… he ended up selling a single sketch for fifty dollars – a farce on the two-hundred he'd advertised it for.

"Something the matter?" Kaname's voice was languid, obviously tired himself. "We haven't even gotten to the nude sketch."

Zero sighed, finding little strength to throw back an audacious glare. "No. Just, it's late. I think we'll have to call it a day... er… night – you know what? Whatever."

Kaname stretched, reaching his arms up straight as he pulled the tension from his muscles. He checked his wristwatch, and confirmed that it was indeed, well into early day hours. The apartment was silent save for the ticking of a bedside clock. Kaname relaxed into the quiet, feeling quite uncluttered with the sometimes unbearable decibels of the bustling world surrounding him. Perhaps one day he would retire to the countryside. While he presumed Zero was wrapping up his drawings and organizing things for the next day, Kaname took a brief studious look around the apartment, analyzing its aspects. From where he stood he could just see into the bathroom where a cup was on the bench holding two toothbrushes. Two. The artist hadn't been lying when he told him about his "boyfriend". Kaname had half expected it to be a lie tactic to stave his advances off. Strangely, the thought of those two plastic sticks occupying the same cup… irritated him. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and was in sore need of a good day's sleep. The exhaustion was probably just eating into his composure. He turned back to the artist who remained at his desk, his face hidden by the monitor of his Mac. "So then, same time tomorrow evening, Kiriyuu-san?"

No reply.

Kaname's brow rose suspiciously and he approached the white desk in question. His eyes softened at the sight of Zero Kiriyuu, the proud, bitter and ferociously independent artist, fast asleep, his chin still propped up by the palm of his upright arm, balanced up by his elbow pressing against the desk. For a moment, he furiously deliberated carrying the artist to bed. His mind battled with itself, weighed the options pedantically, until_ finally_, Kaname berated himself for being such a dork and resolved to _just do it_.

Gently, so as not to rouse the dozing penciller, Kaname cradled his back and then slid his arm underneath the crooks beneath Zero's knees. In one fluid movement, he twisted the other into his arms without so much as disturbing him. Kaname felt a small pang of relief; he did not wish for the artist to wake up in such a… compromising position. Too many questions and accusations for Kaname's hazy mind to sort through. Carefully, he lifted the slender body up and carried him with measured steps into his bedroom. Setting him down and pulling the sheet over the artist brought an oddly warm feeling to spread through him. It was if for that one moment he felt… needed in some way. Kaname bristled at the familiar, yet unwanted sensation. He left the room and went back into the main living area, vigilant so as not to ruin any of the artist's paintings. He was sort of getting used to it – the maze of artworks, the precarious places he put his feet.

Kaname stilled when he felt a something indefinitely _crunch_ beneath one of his shoes. He dared to look down, but was instantly relieved of a weight when he saw that it had merely been a scrunched up piece of paper. He could've laughed at himself for being so intimidated. Plucking the waste off the floor, he resolved to throw it in the bin when he caught the edge of something drawn on the scrap of canvas. Curious, he peeled open the crude folds and discovered a sketch of a man. It was abstract, that was for sure, but Kaname knew for a fact that he'd seen it somewhere before… he just couldn't place where. He folded the scrap neatly and placed it in his pocket – he was sure it wouldn't be missed judging from the state of it – and left the apartment, turning off the lights as a belated after thought as he exited.

* * *

><p>Zero woke to the ringing of his bedside phone. For Christ sake… he rolled towards the piercing shrills and threw his arm heavily over in the general direction of the sound. When his hand finally slammed into the receiver, he pulled it weakly to his ear.<p>

"Yeah…?" he murmured.

"_Zero-chan!_" Takuma.

Takuma's voice was even worse than the ringing of his phone. Zero winced and opened his eyes. "What do you want?" The bed. He was in bed… but he couldn't remember quite getting there…

"_How did your session with Cross-san go? Smoothly I hope?"_

Zero started. Did Kaname carry him here? Come to think of it, Zero sure didn't remember showing him to the door. "Just peachy…"

"_Good, because you two didn't get off to the best of starts. You two… _behaved_, right?"_

Zero looked around him. He'd even drawn the sheet over him. "Yeah."

" _Still got stars in your eyes hey? Just kidding! Anyway… he's not your average rock star, is he?"_

"No…," Zero was wistful. "No, not really."


End file.
